Small Feelings
by Haruyan
Summary: After finding a memento from his Academy days, Urahara relates little bits of his past to Ichigo. Ichigo/Urahara, one-sided Urahara/Isshin. AU-ish.


**SMALL FEELINGS**

_Chapter 1_

Ichigo knew he should've suspected Urahara the moment he'd offered Ichigo a small part time job for a moderate pay. He could congratulate himself on having a keen intuition, correctly guessing that the menial work he'd be performing included moving around boxes, what he did not guess was the amount of dust in said boxes and the cramped room he was ordered to work in.

The teen coughed as he stood on his tip-toes, trying to reach a high placed box only to have it slip and topple all the contents on his head.

He sighed and crouched to pick up the items, thinking about the chastise he would get later on for making a mess. Even if he left as little evidence of the accident as he could, he suspected the shopkeeper would just "mysteriously" know about the little mishap and punish him by substracting a small amount from his already minuscule daily pay.

Deftly, he moved the strewn contents into a new box, paying little attention to the objects until he felt a different texture from the usual books, folders and random small trinkets.

A scarf.

He curled his fingers around the soft fabric and brought it closer, noticing the intricate knit pattern even under the poor light of the room. With his other hand he folded it carefully; Ichigo's calloused fingers relished in the dusty softness. Out of curiosity, he brought the scarf closer to his face and took a small breath: it smelt of warm nostalgia and a distinct cologne.

Confused, Ichigo set it aside and continued to pack the fallen items, figuring a piece of clothing would better belong in a box with clothing, not yellowish papers and unreadable books.

* * *

"Urahara-san, this came out of the boxes. I figured you'd want to keep it with the rest of the clothes," the youth said as he handed the shopkeeper the scarf. Now that he looked at it in better light, he could see that despite the obvious passage of time, the item was in good condition. Perhaps the color had faded a little, Ichigo guessed that it had once been a bright red color instead of the odd copper it was now.

Urahara turned and seemed surprised at seeing the scarf being offered to him, having expected anything but, and yet a small smiled formed on his lips.

"Oh my. I haven't seen that old thing in years~"

Ichigo scratched the back of his neck absently. "Yeah well, it could use a wash."

"Thank you, Kurosaki-san." The blond extended his hand and took the scarf from the teen. He brought it close to his face and closing his eyes took a deep breath of the scarf's scent. It brought back memories, pleasant and otherwise.

Urahara noticed Ichigo's fidgeting in his place, he figured the boy was waiting to be paid and dismissed.

"I guess I should pay you now, or would you mind staying for lunch instead of going home?"

Ichigo was surprised at the invitation and considered the given option. Well, he was hungry…

"I don't mind."

"Excellent! I'll have Tessai-san prepare us something then~"

* * *

Ichigo's eyes kept wandering back and forth from his meal to the scarf placed next to his host and his host's typica hat.

"What was that doing in the boxes?" He wondered outloud, unsure what answer to expect.

"This? I must've placed it there and forgotten about it when we moved here." Urahara explained, continuing to eat.

"Hmmm. How long ago was that?"

"Uuh…..about 70 years?" Urahara gave his honest guess, it was so long ago and he could hardly be bothered to remember the exact date. Ichigo however, sputtered.

"That long ago!? I'm surprised it survived…"

"I take good care of my belongings," Urahara said, mildly insulted. "And you'd be more surprised to know I've had this scarf for more than two hundred years," he continued to explain, satisfied that Ichigo's eyes widened so much in amazement.

"Two hundred….but back then you were in Soul Society."

"That's right. My, it's been that long…." he let himself be surprised by the fact.

"Urahara-san….what was it like back when you were in Soul Society?"

Kisuke looked at the teen, unsurprised by the question but suprised by the honest look of curiosity in Ichigo's face.

"It was different."

"I figured that. But how different."

"Why would you like to know?"

"Just wondering." He wondered like any boy would wonder what life was like before he was born and when his own parents were children, but not only he wondered out of innocent interest, he wanted to know what his father's life had been before coming to the Material World, before him and his sisters and before Masaki.

Kisuke chuckled and finished the last remains of rice on his bowl, setting it aside.

"About a hundred years ago I was Captain of the 12th Division. A hundred years before that I was a student at Shino Academy."

* * *

Winter arrived when the members of the Ninth Division started wearing long sleeved uniforms. Kisuke dully noted the fact and adjusted his sword against his hip. Many students would've been honored and exited to join any Division in whatever mission they could offer, but the blonde was already bored and didn't find any novelty in this or any other kind of Division, exciting mission or not.

It was part of his personality, Yoruichi had noted with a grin. Kisuke was the type of person that grew bored with routine and recieving a mission every other month from the Gotei 13 had lost its charm already.

"Heads up, student. We're going in."

Kisuke came out of his thoughts and nodded. Even low-ranking members of any Division were his superiors at the moment, the white circular symbols contrasted heavily against this dark uniform and indicated that he was still only a fledgling; capable, but ignorant.

It made Kisuke's blood boil sometimes.

The highest ranked member in the small squad issued orders for everyone to surround the hollow and incapacitate it, he'd indicated before that Kisuke was to stay close to his side and the blond did just that, unflinching even when the hollow whiped out its tongue and sent the 8th seat flying.

He stood his ground, sword poised and mind quickly analyzing the situation despite the chaos among the rest of the unseated members, lost on what to do without a leader.

"Bakudo 21! Sekienton!" Kisuke casted the spell and jumped back slightly to avoid the red smoke that would blow up in an instant.

"Hado 54! Haien!" Without the incantation, the spell was weak but it still served its purpouse. The hollow roared in pain as flames engulfed him. A shinigami from the squad took the advantage and sliced down the hollow's mask, killing him and desintegrating him.

Kisuke sighed. Same old, same old.

"Good work! Good work everyone!" A happy voice sounded behind him and the blond turned quickly to see the owner of that voice. A big smile was accross Isshin's face, his haori worn properly and not over his shoulder as was common for him. Winter had indeed arrived if he was doing that.

"Captain!" The remaining Ninth Division shinigami gathered up and bowed. It was rare for a captain to check on the work of a division other than his or her own, nevertheless they owed him respect.

Kisuke stared, enchanted. Isshin stopped before him and grinned widely, reaching to ruffle his light colored hair.

"Good work out there, but next time remember to keep in mind your teammates, you blinded them too with that Bakudo spell."

"Y-yes…! Forgive me, Captain….!" Kisuke bowed hurriedly, noting that he had not bowed in time with the rest so he had quite obviously been caught gaping. How embarrassing….

Isshin laughed lightly. "Well, the work is done. Report back to your Division. You can go back to the Academy young man. I expect to hear good things of you in the future-ah! Sorry sorry~"

The wind had fluttered through them, untangling the captain's scarf and letting it hit Kisuke's cheek.

For the briefest moment, Kisuke relished in the fabric's caress and warmth. For a second he took in the aroma of the scarf, that manly musk and particular cologne…he wanted to keep enjoying it….

"Uh….it's alright…." the blonde blushed and lowered his head. A strong hand placed itself on his shoulder and for a second, he could again taste the same aroma the scarf had as Isshin walked past him.

_To be continued...(?)_

* * *

I write like shit, I'm so rusty...


End file.
